Torment
by snlover10
Summary: Sam is tortured by some crazy guy for fun, and Dean is made to watch.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:**__ As usual, I own none of it._

_**Summary:**__ Sam is tortured by some crazy guy for fun, and Dean is made to watch. _

_**Note:** Hopefully you guys are all reading the above summary and whooping. Heh_

* * *

**Torment**

Dean sat opposite Sam in the small café, who was as usual, was rambling on about their current hunt. Not that Dean always shut out Sam when he was talking, but he just couldn't concentrate on the words flying out of his brother's mouth at the moment.

It was just too damn hot to do anything worthwhile.

They had come to this small town on the outskirt of a city since they had read something that sounded like their kind of thing. But nothing went as planned. The heat was incredible. When driving from the city to the town, within a few hours they noticed the gradual change in temperature. Degrees soared as the sun shone down mercilessly upon them. And most of the locals acted like nothing was wrong, seemed like they all got used to the lifestyle.

Dean was under the impression that they could finish the hunt quickly and drive away from the ''hell on Earth'', but the worst part had to be that they had been cooped up in the smallest motel in the history of small motels for nearly two weeks without an important lead. Every time they thought they had found something useful, it somehow managed to backfire on them.

''…and talk to him okay?''

Dean nodded absently mindedly at Sam, his eyes staring past everything like he had done for the past ten minutes. Sam however, being the smart college boy he was, wasn't fooled this time round.

''Are you listening to me?'', he snapped, whacking his brother on the arm.

Dean roused himself and looked at the shaggy head before him, before clearing his throat to reply.

''Cos I was Sammy.''

''Then who did I just say we must talk to?''

''Er.. Well, that guy from, erm, works in the- ''

''Roger Milner. He's a friend of the missing victim!'', Sam breathed angrily.

''Look Dean, I hate this town as much as you do. And while _you_ laze around everyday at the motel watching tv, _I'm_ the one who has to research for leads. So if I'm boring you, I'm sorry, but you either pay attention to what I've got to say so we can finish this hunt and get out of here soon, or you can do your own research.''

And with that, he pushed his laptop towards Dean, breathing like he'd run a mile after his latest rant.

Dean, caught off guard by his normally calm brother, took in the damp mop of hair, slick with sweat from the heat and the dark circles under his eyes. Feeling a pang of guilt, he raised his palms.

''Okay Sam, sorry. You do your thing.''

Sam seemed surprised for a moment, before pulling back his laptop and continued in a slightly abashed tone.

''Right. Like I was saying, we'll go talk to Roger tonight, inquire on the victim.''

Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes a bit.

''But we've already done that with _two_ of his other friends!''

''Yes well, they all give different views. Let's just talk to this one alright?'', Sam asked almost pleadingly, wanting so desperately for this hunt to be over so they could be on their way again.

It was true that they had posed as officers and interviewed two others, and they both didn't give too much similar information. Resigning, knowing that they had no choice, he agreed.

''Alright, but I'm telling you, if he says something totally different I swear I'm gonna punch him and blame my outbreak of behaviour on this friggin' heat!'', wiping away the sweat that formed on his upper lip.

Sam exhaled slowly, shaking his head, a small smile tugging on his lips before they both stood up, paid for their food and made the way to the impala.

* * *

Sam squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, willing to go to sleep. But it just seemed impossible at the moment. 

The car itself was like at oven, baking them and absorbing heat in to melt its occupants. Both of the windows were down, as Dean had said a bit enthusiastically that there might be some wind when he drives. Sadly, that wasn't the case. The wind itself seemed to die before it reached the inside of the car, and Sam had given up waiting for some non-existent breeze.

Slouching down further into his seat, trying in vain to escape the deadly heat rays, he once again forced himself to doze off, so as to not deal with everything anymore. _Why the hell is this town so damn hot?_ Fuming, he reached for the bottle of water behind, only to find it empty.

Cursing silently, Sam felt nauseous. Sweat trickled down his chest and his brain seemed like it was swelling from all the liquid he drank, but his throat was still parched and scratchy. He decided to concentrate on his breathing, to force his mind to think about nothing else except that. _Thank god Dean has his music off, or I think I'd die right here_.

Knowing that nothing productive was going to be done, he closed his eyes to blackness.

* * *

Dean drove on steadily, his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. He did his best to ignore his damp shirt, his throat which craved for more water as he cruised down the road. 

He did have his music on blasting before, since he thought it would help him get his mind off the heat if he hummed along to his favourite tunes. But alas, that was not meant to be as his throat just started calling out for more water.

Dean glanced at Sam whom he knew was just pretending to sleep to escape this hell. He really looked like crap. His brother had been up late into the night doing research, finding leads and stuff to end the hunt faster while he had been sleeping. Something settled in his chest, and he didn't blame Sam for his short outburst in the café earlier. Heat like this, emotions sure ran high.

Parking in the motel car park, he got out, followed by Sam who was awfully quiet. Upon reaching the room, they simultaneously threw their bags onto the bed when Sam spoke.

''Hey, we're out of water again. I'm gonna go to the minimart to get some stuff.''

Dean nodded, already halfway to the shower.

''Don't be long.'', he said before shutting the door and turning on the cold water over his burning body.

* * *

Dusk was approaching fast as Sam made his way to the shop. He felt horrible. His shirt was completely a different colour then when he wore it out in the morning. His long hair stuck to his forehead uncomfortably and there was this pounding in his skull. He couldn't wait to get that shower before hitting the road again to find Roger Milner. 

Seeing the neon signs ahead, he quickened his steps, but suddenly hearing another pair of feet to his right. Barely reacting, he saw a flash of silver before the long pole collided with his head with such force that his neck cricked and in turn spun his shoulders and entire body towards the dirt.

Sam was out cold before he even hit the ground.

* * *

**_Note:_** _Sorry if it's a little long, I'll try not to do it so much. Reviews are inhaled, so please blow them my way._

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	2. Chapter 2

**_Note:_**_ Thanks for the reviews. And judging by what I read, I'll take back my apologies for the length. _

* * *

**Torment**

**Chapter 2**

Mitch Keller looked at the pathetic excuse for a life form lying before him. The gash on his head was trickling blood slowly, running down the side of the young man's face in a thin, red line.

Mitch really thought that the man would have heard him coming. After all, he made absolutely no effort to conceal the noise from his boots, and had been actually looking forward to a fight.

He loved boring into his victim's eyes. To see the pain and fear they contained when he held their life in his hands, to see them cringe away from him and lose hope. Yes, he loved that. Unfortunately, that didn't happen today, for the man's reaction was slower than a snails'.

Keller glanced around to make sure nobody had seen what had happened. The neon signs from the shop were too far away, and it was dark. It was a moonless night, and that suited him very well. It seemed to him Earth was almost congratulating him.

Quickly yanking out a rope from his backpack and tying it round the man's shoes, he dragged the limp form back to his van, where it was hidden beautifully behind the trees. Panting and huffing deeply for the kid was no light weight, he dumped the body unceremoniously in his back seat.

Not before finding glee when kicking his ribs for the effort it took him of course. The blow he gave to the man's head was enough to keep him in dreamland for the time being, and starting the engine, he zoomed off, his heart swelling with excitement.

Keller was sure he was going to have a lot of fun playing with this man.

* * *

Dean felt like he was in heaven, not that he believed in any shit like that. But the cool water running down his body, calming the raging skin, was just so much like paradise. 

Feeling that he'd been in there long enough, he turned off the shower, only to feel the heat around him engulfing him once more.

Dean cursed. He was supremely pissed to no extent. He wondered whether his brother was having better luck. The night was young, and there might be wind sweeping around these barren lands.

Speaking of him, where was Sam anyway? Dean was sure he'd been gone for quite some time, knowing very well Sam would bang on his door for his turn in the shower the moment he reached the motel.

Chucking the clothes on his body, he stepped out the bathroom and looked at his room. It was exactly the way he last left it. Looking at his watch made him panic.

Dean had been in the shower for more than half an hour, and yet Sam wasn't back. _Shit._ Making strides to the end of his room to grab his hand phone, he speed dialed Sam's number, hoping with all his might to hear his brother's voice.

''_Hey, this is Sam. I'm busy at the moment, so could you try calling me later? Thanks_._''_

Dean starred at his mobile. Sam always answered his phone. Even more if was his elder brother calling to check up on him. No, something was wrong.

Grabbing his leather jacket and packing himself with his weapons, he stepped out into the night with a special Dean Winchester mission. The heat hit him smack on his face and all the while the horrible feeling in his chest never left, as he jogged down to his car.

* * *

Bobby Singer felt accomplished. 

He had just dealt with an angry spirit's bones, and now he was trudging down the highway in his van, which everyone would think had gone into a fight with a truck. His eyes felt heavy, and he couldn't wait to get back to his current motel and sink into the bed, saying goodbye to the tiredness in his body.

Upon reaching, he didn't even bother to take a shower to wash away the day's work of dirt and grime. Instead, he just changed his clothes and was about to throw himself down on the bed when his phone rang.

Bobby signed. _So not in the mood for any shit right now._ However, catching sight of the caller ID, he immediately felt alert and answered.

''Dean?''

''Yeah Bobby… Er... I've got a problem.''

''What, you having trouble finding something in that hell town? Sam told me you guys were going there to check it out.''

''No Bobby.. It's not that. It's… It's Sam.''

Bobby felt his body go rigid when he heard this, and also heard Dean's very audible sigh on the other end.

''What's wrong? He hurt?''

''He's missing Bobby''.

There it was. He was hoping it wasn't anything serious. Wounds, they could handle. But a missing person… That's another story.

''I've looked for him everywhere in this town Bobby. No ones' seen anything unusual. I… I just don't know where he is.''

He could tell Dean was panicking now.

''Look Dean, I'm coming there right now alright? You just keep searching, and I'll meet you up once I get there.''

Hearing just plain silence on the other end, he Bobby added in a gentler tone.

''We'll find Sam Dean. The boy's gonna be okay. He always is. Everything's gonna be fine. You keep your head clear you hear?''

''Yeah, okay'', and Dean disconnected the call without another word.

Bobby rubbed a hand across his unshaven face. _Why doesn't the world just leave the Winchesters alone?_ The sleepiness in his body was gone, and he felt energized. Rapidly packing his things and checking out the motel to the bewilded clerk on duty, he started his van again, praying the boy was indeed alright.

Life never stops for a hunter. That was certain.

* * *

Sam slowly fought his fuzzy mind and came back to the real world. The first thing he felt was his head, which was hurting like hell. And then he remembered. He had gone out to get some provisions and he got himself in trouble. Again. Dean's not going to pleased with him. 

The room around him was dim, and he could barely make out anything with the small low voltage bulb fixed to his right onto the wall. Sam's mouth was gagged, and he was sitting on a chair, his arms bound behind his back and his ankles tied tightly to the chair's legs. He tried moving, but he just made the rope cut into his skin even more. He let his head fall back and was surprised to catch sight of the night sky.

The ceiling was clear glass, several inches thick at least he could tell. Something rose in his chest and he struggled harder against the bounds, desperately trying to free himself to get back to his brother.

''Easy now, you're not going anywhere.''

Sam froze the moment he heard the deep gruff voice. It was coming from his behind, and not knowing who it was out of his sight, made him afraid even more. He tried in vain to turn his body, and was answered by a cold laugh.

The man's boots echoed round the room as he made his way closer. Hands were placed on his shoulders and Sam automatically cringed away from them, only to find the fingers digging harder into his flesh, causing him grunt.

The man seemed satisfied with his captive for that and moved in front on him, so that Sam took in his features.

His kidnapper was tall and well built, his muscles bulging from his shirt. His face was clean shaven and scarred in the cheek, bringing out the man's crazy black, evil eyes, which seemed at the moment to be laughing at him.

Sam moved his wrists again, not wanting to be before this person, who was clearly not in the right state of mind.

''I've been observing you and your brother for a week now.''

Sam said nothing. Not like he could if he wanted to anyway.

''The things you do, going from place to place with different names. Interesting.''

_A cop?_ That thought flew out his mind the moment it came in. No, definitely not the police. Too crazy to be one.

''You guys will make good fun for me'', and he slowly, threateningly pulled out a short, jagged knife, his face splitting into a maniacal grin. The blade gleamed in the bulb's light, reflecting what Sam feared, his eyes widening as his captive drew closer, knife in hand, ready to inflict pain.

Sam's breathing rate increased and he tried in vain to pull his wrists out and defend himself, but at the moment, he was completely helpless as the blade touched his skin.

* * *

_**Note:** The purple button to your left is calling out to you yes?_

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	3. Chapter 3

_**Note:** Reviews were appreciated, after a hard day at the exams. _

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Sam's breathing quickened rapidly, as the tip pf the knife lightly touched his forearm. The man behind him yanked the gag from his mouth, and slowly pushed the knife harder into Sam.

Sam hitched, and shut his eyes as pain shot up from his arm, all the way to his shoulder. He tried his best not to make any sounds of hurt, to give his captor the satisfaction that he was getting to him. Feeling his blood flow down his arm in a hot flush, he prayed and prayed for Dean to come barging through those rusty doors.

''Look, don't do this. Tell me what you want.'', hoping he didn't sound like he was pleading. His captor walked to his front, smirking coldly, and maniacal eyes sweeping Sam's face for signs of weakness.

''I don't want anything. I like my job.''

Sam couldn't do anything to stop the blow to his face, springing his neck as his face rolled to his right. Blood now trickled from his nose as well, and he found his breathing blocked somewhat by it. Another punch flew to his cheek and then stomach, and Sam tried to curl in on himself, but his bounded arms behind him didn't allow that.

Gritting his teeth, he watched as his kidnapper traced a finger on Sam's blood, before tasting it, and savouring it like honey. _God, this man is crazy_, Sam thought desperately. He laughed once more.

''I'll leave you. For now… Don't get too comfortable.''

Lightly slashing Sam's cheek with his razor sharp knife, he patted his chin with his toy and walked out the room, leaving Sam alone.

Sam breathed out forcefully, trying to blow out the blood in his nose to enable him to take in breaths easier. He could tell there was more to come. More beatings, more torture. And yet, he already felt he had had enough of all this shit. His forearm tingled, and his cheek burned and itched as well. Working his wrists against the bonds, he knew there wasn't any means of escape. It was too securely tied, and so were his ankles.

He stared around the room, looking for anything to aid him in his escape. Nothing, other than the bulb on the wall. Resigned, he wiped his blood on his cheek against his sleeve by bending his face, and gazed up to the heavens, wondering whether his father could see just what the hell was going on with his two boys he left behind in a hurry.

* * *

Keller's pulse raced with excitement. This Sam boy was going to a whole lot of fun, he could just tell. Not like his other victims. All weak willed, and had no confidence in themselves. 

No, this one was a league ahead of all those bastards. This one would definitely give him the pleasure he seeks. He had seen his eyes. They were defiant, and almost didn't seem to be afraid. Though he knew that was just an act. No one would dare _not_ be afraid of him.

And Keller had seen hope in his captive's eyes. Something he didn't like. He wanted them to be brave, yes, for it would mean all the more torturing them slowly. But he didn't want them to feel hopeful. Hope causes a man to do things.

And this one seemed to live thinking that his idiot brother would get him out of here. Thinking that someone else would come and save him, make him safe. Well, he did eye them for almost an entire week when these two strangers came to town.

Keller had stalked them everywhere. Watching them in their motel, when they were interviewing different people in various get-ups, and he also noticed the finer details in them. Something not everyone had the ability, or gift as he called it, to see.

Keller saw the way the older one always put himself ahead of the other one. That was obvious. Every time they knocked on doors, the older one would always be in front. Though, his body turned in a way where he could still see his younger brother from the corner of his eyes.

The way the older one always seemed to watch the younger one carefully and lovingly when he was looking elsewhere, but immediately turning away and pretending to be busy with something else when the younger one turns to him.

The very essence of this protective stance was what made Keller attracted to them. He knew the older one was rasher, and didn't care for his life as much as his brother's. So he resorted to taking away the younger brother first, planning on making the older one watch as he tortured the younger one, seeing the pain and hatred flash in those eyes as he be witness to his younger brother's sufferings.

Yes, that would be nice. In a way, he would be hurting both brothers at the same time. However, he had gotten ahead of himself today. He didn't want to touch Sam before the other one got here. But he just couldn't resist, couldn't contain his desire to inflict pain.

Not to worry. He'll get the other brother soon enough. And that's when the real fun starts.

* * *

Dean was driving feverishly all around the small town. He was hot, sweaty and thirsty, but he didn't care. He just wanted to find his little brother. 

Thinking of Sam made him wince. Again, he allowed him to venture out into the night alone to get things. He was the one supposed to do all those things, and Sam was supposed to be safe at the motel. Instead, he had been taking a nice long shower while Sam had to go get himself kidnapped.

Slamming his palm on the steering wheel in anger, he shook his head. His entire fault. Like that was anything new. Parking the impala clumsily, he got out and walked to the small buildings by his side. He had been looking for Sam everywhere, asking local folk if they seen anything strange or unusual, but nothing.

It was true Bobby had told him to keep a cool head, but that was impossible for Dean Winchester when some loony takes his younger brother.

Banging through the wooden doors of another shop house, he walked straight to the boy at the counter, who was looking at him like _he_ was the one crazy and in need of a mental institute. The few people in the shop took one look at Dean and quickly exited the place, casting dark looks in his direction. The sales boy saw his customers scurrying away and turned to look at the man before him in anger.

''Hey mister, you don't just barge in here and sta-''

''Have you seen this man?'', Dean asked rather roughly, cutting in between what the sales boy was trying to say. He showed a picture of a sleeping Sam from his phone, one that he took not long ago. Sam's head had been in an awkward angle in their motel room, and Dean snapped it on the spot, the moment he saw it for he thought it was worth the laugh. Well, he would willingly delete the tons of stupid pictures of his geeky little brother his phone contained if he could find Sam again.

The young man stood beside his stool, starring at the phone in shock with raised eyebrows. It was clear he hadn't gotten over the fact that some raving madman just came skidding through those doors, scaring away his customers and shoving a phone up his face.

''Well, have you?'', snapped Dean. He _so_ had no time for shit like this. That seemed to wake up the counter boy.

''What? No, no. I haven't, sorry.''

Dean cursed, making the boy flinch. Without a word of thanks or apology, he swept out through the doors again, leaving the boy still standing there with his shocked expression on his face with his mouth open.

Striding down the narrow street, he stopped people randomly and inquired them on Sam's whereabouts, but none of them seemed to know him. He was taken at night, and town like this, no one goes out too late, fearing for their own safety.

Seeing a man come before him, he paused and whipped out his phone again.

''Hey you, you seen this man around?''

The guy squinted at small screen, looked at Dean and nodded.

''Yeah, saw him last night. Why?''

Dean's chest sprang new hope. _This man's seen Sammy!_

''You saw where he went?'', praying his new best friend indeed did.

''Yup. Right that way.'', and he pointed behind his back, down the street.

''Could you show me where?''

Dean could tell the man before him was uncomfortable. But he continued pushing him. Finding his brother was way more important than making a poor guy feel funny.

''Well, erm, it's just tha-''

''Please, it'll mean a lot to me if you could.''

''Err… Well, okay. Over here, this way.''

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, thanking his lucky stars and followed the man in front of him. He really did feel hopeful now. Sam is going to be just fine. Perhaps he'll find a good lead here and could meet up with Bobby in a couple of hours; he should be here by then.

With renewed happiness, Dean allowed himself a small smile as he followed.

* * *

Keller felt excited. His heart quickened at the thought of him succeeding. _Yes, yes, yes_. He tried his best not to grin as he turned down an old deserted alleyway. This was it, he knew it was. 

''Hey, you sure this the way he went?'', came the voice behind him.

''No, of course not.''

With that, Keller turned and met the surprised man with a kick, sending him down to earth. But he was no pushover. Swiftly, he threw a combination of punches and kicks and Keller actually had to use his brain and strength and parry them all.

He felt a bit dazed as one kick connected with his stomach, but he himself was a fantastic fighter. Blocking his blows, he took on a defensive pose for a mere second before turning to offensive mode. Unleashing a deadly combination, he made his enemy bend forwards before his knee crashed against the man's head, making him unconscious in an instant.

Keller watched as his opponent slumped to the ground, defeated. He nodded his approval; this man was a good fighter, unlike the other one. He made him work for his victory, and even took a blow himself.

Though his respect grew for this older one, his love didn't. Whatever the case may be at the moment, it was clear who had the upper hand now.

Keller 2, Winchester 0.

* * *

_**Note:** __I must know the pace at which this is going. Hopefully not too draggy or speedy, so reviews will tell me so. Thanks. _

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	4. Chapter 4

**_Note:_**_ I have to address an issue. A couple of people have been saying Sam's a good fighter as well. This is true of course, but I still think Dean's better in melee combat. Anyway, thanks for bringing it up, and keep those reviews coming ya. _

* * *

**Torment**

**Chapter 4**

Bobby was sipping his coffee at the café. Dean had informed him he'll be meeting up with him here, but so far, no sign of the older brother. _Wonder where the hell he is now_.

The moment he drove to town, he had started sweating very soon and drank so much water he felt the liquid sloshing around in his empty stomach. He hated that feeling. This was why he had ordered that chicken sandwich the moment he reached the café. Together with his coffee of course. He realized Sam hadn't been exaggerating about the heat.

Thinking of Sam, he sincerely hoped the boy was alright. He was smart, polite to every damn person he meets and a good hunter as well. No one in their right mind would want to take someone as nice as Sam.

Checking his watch again, Bobby decided to wait awhile more before calling Dean. He might just be too caught up trying to find his kid brother.

''You need a refill sir?''

Bobby looked up and saw the waitress with a very forced smile on her face, and realized he finished his coffee.

''No.''

''Need anything else?''

''No thanks.''

Bobby could feel the waitress practically rolling her eyes at him in annoyance as she made her way to bother another customer before heading towards the counter. He just sat there, staring out the tiny dusty window, looking for any sign of the person he was supposed to meet. He was sure he would hear the low grumble of Dean's treasured impala before it came into sight.

He knew the waitress was pissed at him. After all, he was merely sitting there without ordering anything. Glancing at his watch again, he decided it was time to go.

Walking towards the counter, he fished out his wallet and paid the bill to the waitress, who seemed to almost breathe in a sigh of relief. She certainly didn't take to him the moment he walked through those doors. Him with his cap on low, hiding his eyes, unshaven beard and ragged clothes.

Starting his van, he dialed Dean's number, and was mildly surprised he didn't pick up the call. Wondering just what the hell was going on, he thought he would make his way to the only ramshackle motel this hell town contained, trying to ignore the sun.

* * *

Dean awoke slowly, and his first immediate thought was _shit._

He quickly took in his surroundings, and knew he was in a small room. The air around him told him so. His wrists were tied behind his hands, his ankles to the chair's legs. He tried to move, but the rope was already pressing into his skin, making his fingers go slightly numb from the lack of blood flow.

His head hurt too a bit too. _Well, you did take a knee into it you dumbass_, he reminded himself.

''I see you're awake.''

Dean stopped fidgeting and fought his head to look at his captor. He wouldn't need to have done so, for the man actually walked to his front and sat upon another chair, pulled up close to him.

''Who the hell are you, and where's my brother?'', Dean asked angrily.

The man smirked, his eyes dancing.

''Oh, he's fine Dean. Just _fine_.''

''You bastard! What have you done?!''

Dean momentarily had the wind driven out his stomach as he took the blow to it. Gritting his teeth, he stared up to the man, wishing with all his heart looks could kill.

''No need for that kind of language. You want to see him, you sure can.''

The man got up from his chair and walked towards Dean. Holding the edges, he spun Dean's chair around a hundred eighty degrees, making Dean's eyes go wide.

Dean was staring at his younger brother. Though, they weren't in the same room. He was staring through a one way mirror, like those they used in interrogation rooms. He knew, for he was no stranger to those.

Sam currently had his eyes closed. His head and upper lip had dried blood on them, making Dean's heart clench at the sight. Sam's room was much bigger, and brighter, for Dean could see his younger brother held in a glass ceiling room, with the sun rays streaming down.

''Told you he was just fine.''

Whipping his head around to shoot daggers at the crazy man, Dean really felt like killing him. It was obvious he had hurt Sammy, make him spill blood. And that didn't bode too well with the elder Winchester.

''You… you sick son of a bitch. You let him go. Right now.''

Dean was seething and shaking with anger as another punch flew to his cheek, stinging him.

''Watch your mouth. Don't you want to see Sam awake?''

The man leered at Dean and started walking towards the small door to exit the room.

''Hey! HEY! I _swear_ to God, you touch a hair on his head, you're dead! HEY!''

The doors shut close, and Dean's only reply was the laugh bouncing off the walls of the small room he was contained in now.

* * *

Sam startled awake as he felt cold water on his face. Blinking his eyes, he lifted his head and was greeted with the sight of his crazy kidnapper. 

''Hope you had a good night's sleep Sammy.''

''It's Sam.'', he replied before he could do anything else, for this phrase had been said over and over again countless times, it was almost drilled into his head.

''So it is.''

Sam looked at him, fearing inwardly what he was going to go through today. The water on his face made him realize just how damn thirsty he was. His torso was wet, with both the water and sweat, and with the sun shining down through that ceiling, Sam had difficulty keeping his eyes open. His pupils hurt as he looked around once more for a means of escape, squinting everywhere.

''You're not going anywhere Sam, so it's better if you just relax. Save your energy. With this heat, you don't want to overwork yourself now do you?''

Refusing to reply to that taunting voice, he did realize he was indeed right for that part. There was no point in exerting himself, he was already tired just sitting there and listening to some lunatic make conversation with him.

Glancing up at his captor once more, his heart sank when he caught sight of the same jagged knife, its blade glinting menacingly in the sunlight. Without warning, he felt the tip slash against his chest and he cried out, unable to stop himself from doing so.

Heaving and breathing heavily, blood now trickled from his chest and he knew his captor had intended not to kill him, but rather create small wounds here and there. Sam gasped again as more punches bounced off his abdomen and couple off his face.

And all the while, he didn't know that his older brother, the one he practically worshipped before anyone else, was sitting mere meters away from him, screaming out his name over and over again, and watching his kid brother getting beaten helplessly with horrified eyes.

* * *

It would have been an understatement if someone said Keller was a happy man. For right now, he was in cloud nine. 

He had enjoyed every single minute beating the shit out of Sam, who blacked out when Keller took the pole to his head once more. He had gone to speak with his brother after that, who was as usual, was raining threats down at him, making promises to God and everyone else on the planet that he was going to single handedly rip his head from his body and what else.

Keller laughed to himself. _All talk and no action_. He knew he was killing the older one by just hurting the younger one, and this made him feel like he had so much power. Power to do anything and get away with it. After all, Keller and his brother had.

_Mitch Keller was getting beaten up by the school jerks. Again. Just because he was small in size for someone his age, they always seemed to pick on him, and he had had enough. He wasn't going to allow some stupid kids get the better of him, and it was high time he returned the favour._

_Together with his brother, he ambushed the small gang on their way home from the bar, who were all groggy from one too many drinks. With a ferocious balance of speed and strength, they went down to Keller's and his brother's attacks quickly enough._

_That was the first time he caused blood to spill. And how happy he was. His brother had always encouraged him to fight back, telling him that there was no greater pleasure in the world then holding someone's life in your hands, seeing the fear in their eyes and then wasting them. _

_His brother and him dumped the four bodies in the reservouir, and they made their way back happily. Sure, the case was investigated by the local police, but they had covered their tracks well. Keller knew what he had to do in future to bring happiness for himself, after his brother suffered an unfortunate stroke and left him alone in the world._

Smiling sadly at all the memories he had with his brother, Keller forced himself not to think of his brother in his death bed and willed himself to continue doing what his brother had expected him to do. _Stand for yourself; don't let others take advantage of you_. Well, he was doing that now, and he knew, somewhere from wherever his brother was watching from, he knew that he was happy as well.

Yes, Keller was indeed a joyous person.

* * *

Bobby reached the motel in its same rundown state, and made his way straight to the clerk who was looking very bored and flipping through a magazine a year old. 

Upon his arrival, the young clerk perked up and straightened his shirt, smiling at the thought of having to attend to someone.

''Looking for a room sir?''

Bobby shook his head at the enthusiastic youthful voice, which immediately deflated, together with its face.

''No, no, I'm not. I was wondering if you remember two brothers who checked in before. Yesterday or something.''

Seeing the clerk trying to grasp a distant memory, he added,

''One tall, with dark long hair, the other shorter and more blond.''

The boy immediately nodded.

''Yes, sure. But I haven't seen either of them recently.''

Bobby felt his legs go weak.

''What?''

''Yeah, the taller one left last evening, for who knows what, and the shorter one drove off in his car awhile later. He came back in the middle of the night and left again today at dawn.''

Dawn. It was already past mid-day, and yet Dean hadn't called or come back to the motel. _What the hell?_

''Could I help you with anything else sir?''

Bobby thought fast. Something was up, he was sure of it.

''Yeah, give me the room they're staying in.''

''I don't think that's possible sir.''

Now he was irritated. Why can't this dumb clerk see that something was wrong and he was trying to help?

''Look, I'm their uncle alright? I've been calling them both since today morning, but they aren't picking up. I have to know if they're okay. So, just please, give me that room.''

The boy before Bobby still looked slightly uncertain. Bobby signed and reached into this bag for a photo they took quite sometime ago, with John as well.

''See?''

Clerk-boy eyed the photo suspiciously, and asked,

''Why don't you go to the police?''

Clenching his fist in anger, he fought hard to keep his anger down and prevent his knuckles from grinding into the boy's face.

''Look man, they… they have run-ins with the law before. It's all settled now, but I'm not sure if the cops are gonna help me here.''

Seeing the clerk's face change a bit, Bobby pressed on ruthlessly.

''They wouldn't be out in broad daylight if they're fugitives alright? They're like my… they _are_ my family, and I want to find them. Just please, give me their room key.''

Clerk-boy seemed to look at Bobby almost sympathetically, and bent down to retrieve another key to the Winchester's room.

''Well, alright, here you go. I hope you manage to find them. I don't get many customers here, and most of them are rude to me anyway. That taller one was really nice.''

''Thanks, thanks man. I'll pay you extra for your trouble. Just keep this between us.''

Not waiting for a reply from the clerk, Bobby grabbed his stuff and stormed through the door to the Sam and Dean's room. Eyeing the area, he saw the bags and everything else placed clumsily and he knew that Dean had left in a rush.

Signing, he plonked himself down on the bed, the bed sagging and creaking with the weight. _So much for Plan A_, he thought grumpily. Running a hand across his face, Bobby thought of what to do next, of Plan B.

* * *

_**Note:** __Longest post yet, so forgive me if it's a bit slow. I'll try and keep this story short and sweet, so let me know how it is, thanks in advance. _

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	5. Chapter 5

**_Note:_**_ Thanks to that someone who pointed out about my grammar mistakes and all. I'm far from being American, so please bear with the mistakes, and I'll try my best to ensure it doesn't crop up too much. Another thanks to those people who took the time to review. _

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**Chapter 5**

Bobby felt exhausted.

He had been searching for the brothers after he hijacked their motel room from that young clerk, and that had been hours ago. It was now late in the afternoon, and the sun continued to shine upon him, spitting and laughing cruelly with its death rays.

Bobby had in fact been going around asking people about them, and quite a few told him they indeed did get interrogated by Dean none to politely looking for someone else. This raised his hopes a bit. After all, it does show that Dean had been in this hell town.

Driving around in his van, he took yet another swig of water. _God, this heat is frickin' killing me!_ His face felt hot and itchy, but that may be due to all that beard on his face. Steering the wheel with one hand while absent mindedly scratching his chin, he wondered again for the millionth time which jerk could possibly take them both.

It's not as if the Winchesters don't have enough to deal with at the moment, with their father's demise and all. Pulling into the car park, something black and shiny caught his eye.

Dean's impala.

_Well, this just sucks_. Here it was, prove that Dean too is missing, probably from that same psychopath who took his brother. Dean would never, _never,_ in his entire life leave his car alone without attention.

Clumsily parking his van, he got out and made his way quickly to the car, which practically gleamed in the sunlight. Peaking in, he didn't find anything of interest and was slightly disappointed. _Okay, what'd you expect? Dean sitting there munching on yet another burger?_

Shaking his head, he walked into the nearest store, straight to the sales boy, who looked at him up and down suspiciously.

''Hey kid, you seen this man?''

The boy looked at the picture and snorted.

''What, you guys all playing hide and seek or something?''

''What?''

The boy raised his eyebrows as if Bobby was retarded.

''Well, yeah. He came in earlier today, scared away all my customers, asking if I've seen another guy with a shaggy head.''

Bobby inwardly sighed. This wasn't news; lots of other people have said they saw Dean walking around with his hand phone like a madman.

''Yeah, I know kid. Shaggy-head's missing alright? I need you to tell me where this man went after asking you.''

''Oh, he turned down the street, never seen him since.''

Bobby puffed his cheeks and exhaled slowly. There's a start. If only he could get Gil Grissom to work with him here. Nodding his thanks at the boy, he made his way to out.

''Sorry about your missing person. I hope you find him, for your sake at least.''

Bobby smirked a little. Well, Dean did have that sort of intimidating effect on smaller people. Walking down the street, he prayed to God they were indeed okay.

* * *

Sam's arm seared with pain after his latest bit with his crazy captor. He had taken a hammer to his arm. 

He knew he had screamed, though he had tried his best not to do so, not to give in and satisfy the man. But he couldn't help it, the pain was simply excruciating.

It felt like his arm had been ripped apart, all his bones gone and everything. The pain sent shock waves up down his entire arm, adding to his growing injuries. He was really and truly screwed.

The glass ceiling made another hell. It did nothing to block out the heat, and brightness which now hurt his eyes, stabbing the insides. His thoughts too felt too fuzzy and disconnected, he was unable to think straight. His concussion was getting worse.

But right now, it was his arm calling out to him. After all, a hammer to it was by no means an easy task to handle. Squinting in the garish light, he looked at his arm, and he thought he was going to be sick.

The skin looked absolutely horrible on the surface, ripped apart and he swore he could almost see the crushed bone beneath it. Blood was pooling on the chair's edges and around his feet where it flowed, for his captor had tied his arms by his side while he was out cold.

He knew he was deep shit. The excessive blood loss was making him feel light headed and weak. So much that he knew even if he did manage to break free of the bounds, he'll never be able to get of there. _God, this really hurts like a bitch_, he thought dully to himself.

Seeing his vision starting to black out, he shook his head, trying to keep himself conscious. _Must stay awake_. Dean might come through those doors any second. _Must stay awake for him._

However, this simple task was proving to be too much for Sam Winchester. His body was on fire, he felt dehydrated from the lack of water. It had been hours now, since he last felt the cool liquid seeping down his over patched throat, and sun showed no mercy draining him. He wouldn't be surprised if he just died of heat stroke or something like that.

Ignoring his dry throat, he started humming some random tune. It was only after awhile that he realized it was one of Dean's favourite songs. Sam chuckled. _Of all things…_

Seeing his sight dim around the edges once more, he laid his head back and closed his eyes against the sunlight.

''Oh God, Dean.''

''Dean…''

* * *

Dean was livid. 

He himself had practically died when he saw his brother take that hammer to his arm. The way he heard the scream rip from his brother's throat was enough to make his blood boil.

And what annoyed him even more was that he was helpless. He was unable to stop Sam's pain, to console him, or do _anything_ for that matter.

All he could do was simply watch the living hell Sam was going through. Getting beaten and punched, being slashed with that jagged knife which Dean had come to hate _so_ much. The worse was no doubt, that god forsaken hammer.

Dean couldn't stop his mind from replaying that incident in his head. He saw Sam's wide eyes, those eyes which made his stone heart melt, he saw the hammer swinging, cutting through the air and landing on Sam's arm with a dull bone-crunching thud.

And then in his mind, he saw Sam screaming in pain, the voice echoing within his own ears, making Dean himself scream out Sam's name, making him clutch his fists so tightly that his fingernails cut into his palm till he felt the warm blood trickling down in small amounts.

''That was nice wasn't it?'', the captor had asked Dean after smashing Sam's arm and walking into his room instead.

''You bastard! You wait till I get out from here, I'm gonna kill you myself you understand?''

He had just laughed, shook his head and walked out.

''Yeah Dean, you just keep trying. Me? I've gotta get me some food. A man's gotta eat when a man's gotta eat.''

''You'll die! Hey, you hear me? I swear, _I swear_ you won't get away with this you bitch!''

Dean was huffing like a wounded rhinoceros. His palms stung from his fingernail attack, and his cheek hurt from that one too many punches from Keller. But that was nothing compared to what Sam was going through. Nothing at all.

Spitting his phlegm onto the floor which had built up in his throat, he looked at Sam once more. Sam was looking at his arm now, taking in the damage that had been inflicted upon it.

''God Sammy, I'm so sorry.'', he whispered into the air.

Dean sighed and licked his lips. His brother looked bad. Blood was all over the floor, and if nothing were to done soon, he knew this was going to get serious. Seeing Sam shake his head slowly, it was obvious to Dean he was trying to keep himself conscious.

For what, Dean had no idea. The pain must be unbearable, and it'll be better to escape it for the time being.

''Please Sam, don't fight it.''

He watched as Sam struggled with his conscious and slowly gave in, leaning his head back.

''Oh God, Dean.''

''Dean...''

Dean jerked his head at his name. It became clear to him why he was trying to stay awake. _He thinks I'm out there, searching for him! That I'm gonna rescue him!_ His heart sank. Sam had placed all his hopes on him, but yet here he was, tied up in another room, helpless.

''It's okay Sammy, I'm right here.'', knowing very well his brother wouldn't be able to hear.

''I'm right here.'', he added in a louder voice, trying to inject some confidence into himself as well, as he tried to stop the tears welling up in his eyes.

Dean looked around the room yet again. There was simply nothing that would aid him in his escape. Hanging his head, he caught sight of a small jagged piece of wood on the floor. Hope sprang in his chest.

This was it, there was nothing else to it, and he knew he'd have to take chances that came his way.

Trying to bend his body down to retrieve it with his mouth, it was useless. His arms behind his back prevented him from bending too low, and his tied feet could do nothing.

Dean cursed, thinking what he'd have to do. An idea came to his head. Shaking his entire body, he tried to topple the chair in front of the wood piece. It got off to a slow start, but with Dean using more and more energy, the chair finally tumbled over.

Dean bit back a small cry as he felt his shoulder taking the impact, and he resigned to breathing out the pain. _No time to be a wuss now asshole_. Feeling the wood piece with his fingers, he pulled it in and began hacking away at the ropes on his wrists. He knew he didn't have much time before the lunatic came back, he had to work fast.

Time was against him, and Dean continued sawing away at his bonds. He had a brother to save.

* * *

_**Note:** Oh come on, you know you wanna._

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	6. Chapter 6

_**Note:**_ _Sorry for the long wait, have been pretty busy. Thanks for all the awesome reviews again.

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**Chapter 6**

Dean got up and flexed his wrists. That bastard Keller had really tied the rope round them tight, and he had to hurt his own wrist a bit with that sharp piece of wood to free himself. Examining his wrists to make sure there wasn't any heavy bleeding, he rubbed the spot where the rope had cut into absent-mindedly; thinking what the heck was his next move. He knew he couldn't just walk into the room Sam was in, the door will surely be locked. No use smashing the one-way mirror too, for Dean could tell it was pretty thick.

His stomach grumbled, and his shoulder which he fell on trying to topple over the chair gave a throb.

Glancing down at it, Dean shook his head. _Not now._ Bending down to retrieve the wood piece, he held it in front of himself defensively like a dagger, and opened the door to his room to step into a long, narrow corridor, with steps going down at the far end.

He knew what the outcome was going to be in his heart, but that didn't stop him from trying to open the door to Sam's room. It was, like he thought, locked. _Dammit. Now what?_ He would have shouted to Sam, told him everything was going to be alright, but he was afraid that sick psycho might be back, and he definitely didn't want to give himself away.

Dean thought fast. Keller must be keeping his stash of weapons somewhere. If he could find it, then it would make the job so much easier. Perhaps he could find himself a gun, shoot the lock and rescue Sam? Or he could just wait there, ambushing Keller, and pounce on him after he unlocked Sam's door.

Fighting the urge to scream in frustration, Dean realized there was no way Keller would keep his beloved weapons stash in the open, and it must be in a room of some sort, and he couldn't unlock any door. With just a wood piece, it was impossible. There was only one thing else he could, for he immediately dished the idea of getting out and calling for help.

No, he would have to wait for Keller. Walking to a corner behind a shelf, Dean squatted down, weapon in hand and eyed the doorway, waiting for his victim.

* * *

Keller was bored of his new victim already. Yes, there was pleasure in hurting him, and especially when he had attacked Sam's arm with his hammer. He smiled at the thought for a brief instant, before letting it slip completely off his face. There was just that one problem though.

Sam didn't seem to want to give in, and that pissed Keller off to a major level. His other weaker victims would probably be begging him to stop inflicting bodily harm by now, would have sweared to do anything he wanted and even lick his shoes. But Sam hadn't once opened his mouth to beg him to stop. Not once. And Keller wasn't happy with that.

It was almost as if Sam had accepted he was in trouble. His expressive eyes showed the pain he was in, sure, but he really seemed to be in the thought that his idiot brother would come to his rescue, and save the say like a hero.

No doubt, Dean was a hero in Sam's world. Perhaps he should show Sam that he had Dean tied to a chair too? _No, that wouldn't work_. For Sam would still be the same, stubborn mule, unwilling to beg for himself.

Making his way back to the abandoned apartment, Keller signed. He could always find another victim, though he found it hard to let go his current one, considering he had observed them for a week and had great hopes and plans. Well, looked like Sam Winchester had to die then.

* * *

Bobby stuck to the edges of the buildings as he followed his man. That was Sam's shirt, he was sure of it. One hundred percent certain, for he had seen him wear it tons of times. Gritting his teeth, he thought to himself as he took in the person. _Rookie move pal_. It was stupid to actually use the victim's shirt, but maybe the guy thought there wasn't anyone looking for them, for Sam and Dean were clearly not from the same town.

Dodging into the trees to his left, Bobby continued to follow his quarry stealthily. His shirt was damp with sweat, and his mouth felt dry and uncomfortable. He swore to himself after he got out the brothers, he was going to have the longest shower in history.

Seeing his man enter through the door, Bobby immediately went to the apartment, making his way there in the shadows, unseen. He decided to wait a couple of moments before picking the lock. Creeping down the side and making his way through the thick vines on the ground, he peeked into the window to see his target climbing up a flight of stairs, grinning insanely to himself.

This was the time. The veteran hunter hurried to the main door, expertly unlocking it in mere seconds, before pulling out his handgun from his pants. Slowly and quietly, Bobby made his way up the rickety stairs, hoping he was having that shower before the moon rose.

* * *

Dean pressed himself into the wall, as his ears picked up sound of someone walking up the stairs. Making sure that none of him stuck out from the shelf, he held his breath as Keller came to view, revolver in hand. He knew that if Keller saw him now, he was as good as dead, for there was no way he would be able to dodge the bullet or find himself somewhere to hide from the shots.

Pretty sure that his heart beating loudly against his ribs were going to give him away, Dean stilled and didn't move a hair as Keller began fishing in his pockets for the keys to unlock Sam's room. There was a sound click, and Keller pushed his way past the door, straight to the room, not bothering to close it behind him.

Dean heaved a sigh of relief, as he got up and silently made his way towards the door, praying that Keller wasn't going to hurt his little brother any further. Standing just beside the entrance, Dean crouched down once more, wooden stake in hand, wishing dearly for a better weapon. _I feel like Buffy for god's sake!_

A slap came from the room and Dean clenched his jaw in anger. He was _so_ going to get rid of him, as the sick sound of Keller's voice reached his eardrums.

''Wake up Sammy.''

A low moan was heard and Dean resisted the urge to peek into the room to see how Sam was doing.

''I said wake up.'', and a louder slap echoed from the room, with Dean fighting all natural instinct to just rush into the room and throttle the bastard.

''That's better.''

Dean waited with bated breath, for the right moment to dispose of Keller, when out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadowy figure walking up the stairs. _What the hell?_ There was no way he could run back to the shelf and hide himself before the figure saw him, he would definitely alert Keller with the noise his boots will make banging down on the ground.

_Shit_. After all the trouble he went through, he was going down here. Dean waited like a deer caught in the headlights of a car, before he saw Bobby's face looking at him, mouth slightly open.

''Now that you're awake, I want to talk.''

Both Dean's and Bobby's head turned to the direction of the voice. Bobby looked at Dean again; who offered him thumbs up, before jerking it towards the open door. Bobby immediately nodded, understanding in that instant what was going on, and crouched down along Dean on the other side of the door.

Dean felt renewed hope. After all, Bobby had a gun as well, so it was even. They made eye contact, and knew what they were going to do. Bobby raised one hand, counting to three. Dean nodded.

''I think you're useless Sam.''

One.

''You see, you haven't really given me the pleasure I was seeking for.''

Two. Dean gripped his weapon tightly, readying himself.

''So, I have no choice but to do this. Nice meeting you though.''

Three.

Dean and Bobby lunged for the door, at the same time, and two shots rang out.

Bobby's shot had hit Keller first, right at his heart, and he looked at the newcomers before falling heavily to the floor and twitching. Dean frantically swept his eyes to look at his brother, who was standing against the wall at the far end, his good arm holding his abdomen.

Sam raised his head to look at Dean, his mouth parting to say something, before his arm fell from his stomach to show it blossoming scarlet, spreading out rapidly, as he slid agonizingly slowly to the ground.

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_**Note:**__ Hoping this chapter is pretty good, and also hoping that the long time frame between this and the previous chapter would not put you guys off from writing in reviews.

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	7. Chapter 7

_**Note:**__ It has been a long month, and I apologise once more. Thanks for the awesome reviews and I hope this chapter will be a good read to everyone.

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**Chapter 7**

Sam had been in a pain-free world, before he felt his cheek burn as a slap connected with it. He let out a low moan and refused to open his eyes as his body resisted even the slightest of movements.

''I said wake up.''

A harder slap forced him to do so, and opening his eyes to slits, he caught sight of the last person in the world he would want to meet.

Keller stood before him once more, revolver in hand and looking thoroughly happy. _What now?_ Sam couldn't help but feel the fear the moment he saw the gun. Surely he wasn't going to kill him?

Sam stared, unable to do anything even as Keller reached down and stared to untie his bonds. He was too weak to get away, to put up a fight that would have made his brother proud. All the blood loss was taking a toll on him, and his mind itself was fuzzy and rebelled against him to form a plan.

Keller bent forward and with one arm, pulled a groggy Sam Winchester up and leaned him against the wall, before backing away with the gun, pointed at his forehead. Sam could barely stand, and he was sure his legs wouldn't be able to take his weight any longer. Shaking and forcing himself to remain upright, he continued to stare dimly at his captor.

_What are you doing?! You're free, make a run for it!_ But he just couldn't. His body had had enough. His chest hurt with all the punches, his face stung with pain, his skull was, according to him, on the verge of exploding. And not forgetting his broken arm, which seared with excruciating pain, sending electric bolts up and down.

''That's better.''

Keller slowly walked towards him, speaking. But to Sam, all he heard was the pounding in his head and voices whispering to him to go to sleep. He failed to make out what the lunatic before him was saying, the speechifying dulled Sam's mind further until he heard two, loud, clear shots.

He felt the impact on his abdomen, and his first thought was that he was dead. Sam felt the wind driven out of his stomach, and blood slowly seeping out, dampening his shirt. His vision automatically dimmed as the pain drove all other thoughts in his mind to dominate. Gasping and spluttering, his good arm instinctively clutched the spot while his head looked around for the source of commotion. He saw Keller's body on the floor, blood pouring out from his chest as he laid there, twitching.

And then he saw two very fuzzy figures, but he could recognize one of them anywhere. There he was, his big brother, standing at the doorway, coming to rescue him. Dean had arrived, everything else would be fine.

Sam's breathing rate increased rapidly as his heart felt only pure joy at being able to see his brother. He opened his mouth to call Dean's name, but his legs turned to jelly and he started to slide slowly towards the ground.

* * *

Dean felt his world stop, and time seemed to come to a complete standstill as his eyes zeroed in on his little brother. His throat felt constricted as he rushed to Sam's aid, fearing the worst.

Sam sat against the wall, his head bent backwards, eyes shut and breathing heavily. Dean heard movement around him, but he didn't care. At the moment, the most important thing to him in the entire world was in danger of being taken away from him.

Squatting down, he saw the bullet entry and his heart clenched with pain. Pressing down on his stomach to quell the blood flow, Dean looked at Sam's face once more. He moaned at the pressure Dean put on his abdomen, and opened his eyes. And that was when Dean thought his heart was going to break, catching sight of the pain-filled eyes, pleading to him silently.

''Hey Sammy, it's alright. You're gonna be fine man.''

''Deeean…''

''Damn straight. Okay, you have to listen to me alright? You have to stay awake, and help me get you out of here, you understand?''

Dean did his best to put on his game face, and that smile. He couldn't let Sam see how worried he was. Right now, they needed to get him to a hospital, and fast. Bobby came and crouched down beside him, a hand on Sam's shoulder offering warmth and comfort. Sam seemed to make out who he was and took an awfully long time to process what Dean said. At last, he nodded.

Together with Bobby, Dean lifted Sam off the floor, who gave a soft ''oomph'', and suspended him between them. Huffing and keeping a hand firmly pressed against his brother's stomach, he did his best to try and ignore the noises of protest made by Sam.

''No… Deeeean..''

''It's okay kid, we got you. You can thank us later.''

Dean felt grateful to Bobby for speaking, for right now, he felt his entire world crashing. Reaching the stairs, they practically dragged Sam down and out the door before looking at each other, deciding what to do. Dean's impala was far-off, near the shops, while Bobby's truck was a short distance away.

Setting Sam on the floor and remembering to keep pressure on the wound, Dean turned to Bobby so fast his neck creaked.

''What are we gonna do Bobby? Calling for an ambulance would take too long, and we can't drag Sam all the way to your truck.''

The words tumbled out of his mouth, as he saw Bobby thinking fast. There wasn't a moment to lose.

''You wait here with Sam, I'll go get my truck and be back.'', and without waiting for a reply, he took off, running as quickly as he could to his truck to save Sam.

Dean watched with high anxiety as Bobby left his sight of vision, and turned his attention back to Sam.

''Hang in there Sammy, Bobby will be back soon, and then we'll get you to a hospital to have your freaky head sorted out.''

Blood trickled from Sam's nose as he looked at Dean, his mouth tugged into the slightest smile.

''Baaang-up job on the rescue mission, huuh, Deeeaan?''

Dean's mouth was dry as he thought of something to say. His brother's slurring wasn't helping him much on the task, making him only worry more.

''Nonsense Sammy. You're gonna be fine, trust me.''

And there were the magic words: _trust me_. For that was exactly what Sam did. He looked straight into Dean's green eyes with his own brown ones, speaking volumes without actually saying a single word. Dean held his brother's puppy dog eyes swimming in tears for a moment, before he nodded, clasping Sam on the shoulder.

Bobby would be here any minute; the truck wasn't too far off. A soft sound came from Sam, and it was only a few seconds later did Dean realize that Sam was humming a tune of one of Dean's favourite songs_. As long as he stays awake_, Dean feverishly thought and joined in on the humming, his fingers sliding on Sam's shirt with all the blood. He pressed harder onto his wound.

Sam's hum was broken by his sharp intake of breath at the sudden pressure, before realizing it was necessary and continued his tune abit faster. Just then, a low rumble reached their ears as Bobby's truck came to view, its headlights blinding them, making Sam wince with pain.

Within a split second, Bobby tore out of the vehicle to Dean, lifting Sam and again suspending him between them, dragged him to his vehicle. Dean sat in the backseat with Sam; hoping luck will be on their side in this case.

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_**Note:**__ Forgive me for it being a little slow, but I couldn't resist explaining the smaller details. I promise the next chapter's pace would be faster, and please do keep your reviews coming in to let me know what you think. Thanks a bunch.

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